Healing
by Mammamia0221
Summary: Pre epilogue-Peeta has just returned from the Capitol, and is still struggling with some episodes, Katniss is excited about his return, but is also apprehensive about getting close to him again. Can their relationship ever be as it used to be? The story switches points of view, and covers the process of healing for both Peeta and Katniss.
1. Chapter 1

Healing

Chapter 1  
Katniss

I lay on the couch, somewhere between sleep and consciousness, when I hear it. The familiar shuffling of a certain boy with a fake leg. I bolt upright, rubbing my eyes and straining my ears, hoping to hear it again, and that it wasn't my imagination, or a hallucination—which I'm not proud to say I'm no stranger to.

Just as I'm about to chalk it all up to my reconstructed ear, which I'm sure picks up unusual signals, I hear something else. This time, it's a faint squeaking noise, accompanied by the familiar shuffling. The noise continues, and I hear it rounding the front of the house, and stopping with a soft thud under the window in the living room.

I begin to contemplate whether or not I should peek out the window, when I hear a few soft thuds as a shovel hits the dirt, and a grunt from the shovel's operator. Deciding I can't just sit any longer, I swing my legs off the couch and rush to the front hallway.

I throw open the door and step out onto the stairs, the sunshine, which I haven't been exposed to in quite some time, stings my eyes as they adjust to the lighting. In front of me, I see none other than Peeta Mellark, digging in my garden, with a bunch of rose bushes surrounding him. I must make some sort of noise, because he looks up at me suddenly, and gives a small smile.

"You're back," I squeak, my own voice making me jump slightly, seeing as I'm no longer used to it after my period of silence.

He responds with something about Dr. Aurelius finally letting him leave the Capitol, and how I should pick up the phone to receive my treatments.

I ignore his comment and look towards the bushes, feeling anger rise inside of me. Anger towards the boy standing in front of me, who thinks he can return from his stay in the Capitol, and invade my house and garden. And of all plants, he had to choose **rose **bushes?!  
"What are you doing?" I ask, trying not to let my anger show.

He looks at me for a moment before saying, "I dug these up this morning. For her. We could plant them along your house."

I open my mouth, about ready to scream at him for thinking planting those wretched bushes in honour of my dead little sister was a good idea, when I notice something. I take a closer look at the bushes, and my anger fades quickly. They're not rose bushes, but primrose bushes, the flower my sister was named after. Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed with emotion. I simply nod at him, and flee back into the house, slamming the door behind me.

I lean against the door for support. He's back. Here. Outside my house. I can't help but feel a small spark of joy, but I push it down quickly as I race up the stairs to shower and grab my equipment.

Seeing Peeta has sparked something in me. I decide to take a trip to the woods. I throw on my old hunting clothes, grab my bow and arrow and game bag, and dash back down the stairs, running right past Greasy Sae, who is preparing a meal, as usual, in the kitchen.

She turns around, surprised to see me up and about, and only has the chance to say a quick hello before I'm out the door. I can only wonder what she thinks has gotten into me.

I sprint as fast as I can to the area where I used to escape into the woods, and stop short once I reach there. The fence is pretty much demolished, and only stands in a few places, looking like a small breeze could easily knock it over.

I slow my pace slightly, suddenly mourning the loss of the old District 12, which I haven't thought about in months. As soon as I'm past the fence, I pick up speed again, and run to the place that used to hold the most comfort for me. The lake. I emerge from the dense trees some time later, and am immediately flooded with memories of days spent here with my father. A small smile creeps onto my face as I sit at the edge of the lake, watching the little fish swim back and forth.

I strip off my shoes and socks, and dangle my feet into the water. As I sit there, I let my mind wander.

"He's back," I say aloud, as if finalizing it. I let out a sigh, wondering what could have possibly made him want to come back here. Any remnants of his family, or mine, were all destroyed in the bombing. There's nothing here that could help him heal.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind. Maybe he isn't here for his own personal healing...maybe he's here for some other reason. Maybe he's here…because of me.

I shake my head at the thought. That's crazy. There is no way Peeta came back to District 12 because of me. Last time I saw him, he was still pretty concerned that he would attack me and kill me at any given moment. He didn't even trust himself without handcuffs around me during our mission in the Capitol. So then why is he here? It's only been a few months since I left the Capitol, and I know that he surely hasn't been cured of his episodes that quickly.

Memories of the old Peeta begin to creep into my mind. I see one of the many nights on the train. I'm curled up in his strong arms, trembling, and he's stroking my hair soothingly, assuring me the nightmare was over, and I had nothing to be afraid of.  
I see his warm smile, his blue eyes shining as he looks at me.  
I see us in the cave during our first Games, and feel the pressure of his lips on mine, the fiery sensation the kiss leaves in the pit of my stomach.

I clear my throat and stand, beginning to pace around in the water. The boy in those memories is gone, and it's all because of me. He was taken from me, and changed into someone who I no longer know, and who can no longer stand to be around me.

"But he came back…" I say aloud, still stuck on the fact that of all the places he could have moved on to, he came back here, where I am. Where he knew I would be, seeing as I was sent here with no other choice.

It's not that I mind that he's back…that's the problem.  
I've been without him for so long, and, I will admit, I missed him terribly at times. The thing is; I shouldn't miss him. I should have been happy that he was nowhere near me, so I couldn't cause him any more pain. He would still be the same old Peeta, if it weren't for me.

There's nothing I can do at this point. He's here, living in the house right next door to mine. He will no longer be miles and miles away from me, where I couldn't reach him even if I wanted to. And I can't help but smile when I realize that I will be able to see him, at any given time.

The smile fades though, when I come to a decision. I can't let Peeta Mellark back into my life. For his sake, I have to stay away from him.

No matter how hard it may be for me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Peeta

I watch as Katniss dashes out of her house, hunting gear in hand, and heads towards the edge of the District. I had no idea what her reaction would be, to finding me here outside her house, but I'm glad it was a positive one.

Maybe it had been a good idea to return here after all.  
It's been so long since I've set foot in District 12, that I will admit, it's a little overwhelming. Nevertheless, I'm glad to finally be free of the Capitol, in more ways than one. I'm free of Snow's clutches, of the fear of the Hunger Games, and of being locked up in a hospital room, receiving daily treatments that are excruciatingly painful to sit through.

As I continue to plant the bushes, I let myself reminisce about my time in the Capitol—not that it was something I really enjoyed.  
***

I think back to the time I spent in Tigris' shop, with what was left of our squad. When I followed Gale and Katniss out into the crowds that day, I was, obviously, extremely nervous. Firstly, I was afraid of getting recognized and captured by Snow's men once again. Then there was the fear of slipping into one of my episodes, and turning into the mutt version of myself.

I had managed to keep a fair distance behind Katniss and Gale, while still being able to see them, when I was suddenly stopped, along with the large group of people around me. People hustled around in confusion, as a group of Peacekeepers descended in upon us from the surrounding streets, barking at us to stay where we were and not move.

Naturally, I began to panic. I stood on my tiptoes, and scanned the crowds in front of me, trying to get a glimpse of Katniss, or her friend. The only thing I did manage to see, was the very ground being ripped in half, and people screaming as they scrambled to safety.  
My stomach dropped as the realization that Katniss could be in danger dawned on me. I looked around carefully, making sure I was out of the direct line of vision of any Peacekeepers, and dropped to my knees. I was met with some bewildered looks as I scrambled on the ground, making my way through the throng of people, until I reached the other side of the barricade of men.  
Once I was sure I was a little safer, I continued towards Snow's mansion in a diagonal direction, making sure I was a good distance from the hole in the ground. Just as I passed the large crevice, I heard a bunch of commotion coming from behind me.  
I whirled around, expecting to be pinned to the ground and attacked, finally recognized by Snow's men. Fortunately for me, that was not the case. I saw two Peacekeepers, hauling away a strangely familiar man, who was thrashing around wildly, screaming for someone to help him. They were dragging him into a house on the block. I stood there, frozen in place when I realized why that man looked familiar to me. It was Gale. He'd been captured, and they were taking him who-knows-where to do who-knows-what to him.

I resisted the urge to reveal myself and help him, knowing it would just end up worse for both of us. I swallowed hard, and turned back to my route, scanning the faces of the terrified people in front of me, wondering what had happened to Katniss now that Gale had been taken.  
I was getting closer and closer to the mansion, and couldn't help but gasp when I saw what was in front of me.  
In a fenced in area, just before Snow's gates, were a bunch of children. They were imprisoned in the small area, most likely part of Snow's protection tactic. I let out a snort of disgust as I pushed past the people, and entered the City Circle.  
I glanced around, taking in what was in front of me, part of me hoping it wasn't real. I clenched and unclenched my fists, hating Snow and the Capitol for doing this to innocent children. Not just these children before me, but every child, who was faced with the fear of being picked for the Hunger Games, or was unlucky enough to be a part of it, for altering me into someone who I didn't even recognize and for trying to blame everything Snow did, on Katniss.

At that last thought, I began to doubt myself, and silently cursed the Capitol once more. Did Snow really blame Katniss, or was it really her fault that all this had and was happening?  
Just as I felt myself starting to slip away, parachutes fell from hovercrafts in the sky. The children in the pen started cheering, and caught them, eager to find what gifts they had been given.  
I shook my head to clear it, and just as the urge to move closer to the children came over me, the parachutes exploded.

I gasped in horror as the smoke cleared, and the screams erupted, not only from the children, but from the crowd of people as well. Blood splattered the pavement around them, and the snow that had managed to stick to the ground.  
I began to run, as fast as I could through the people, towards the children, wanting to help them in some way. That's when I saw her, and was once again, paralyzed by horror.  
Paramedics streamed into the pen, and none other than Primrose Everdeen was among them. I was confused for a moment, as to why and how she got there. Then, I heard Katniss, screaming for her sister.  
I watched as she came charging through the crowd, calling Prim's name over and over.  
The little blonde girl finally noticed her, looked over at her older sister, and opened her mouth to speak.  
That's when the rest of the parachutes exploded.

I was thrown backwards with the explosion, feeling the heat of fire and gagging on the smell of burning flesh. Then everything went black.

I woke up some time later, in the burn unit. The doctor assured me that I would be fine, but I suffered some bad burns, and would be left with some scars. I was caught up to speed on Katniss' condition, and the plans for her to assassinate Snow.  
For what seemed like hours after I had awaken, I was surrounded by doctors, nurses, Haymitch, and people who I didn't recognize.  
I don't remember much from my stay in the hospital, but what I do remember, is the day Gale came to visit me.

I was lying in bed, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched tightly, having just experienced an episode, where the mutt version of Katniss watched as I lay in the middle of the City Circle, and doused me with gasoline as she lit a match, laughing the whole time.  
When I opened my eyes, he was standing before me, a grim look on his face.

"Mellark," he said, nodding at me.

I nodded in response, but stayed silent. I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in my room, of all places.  
He shuffled around awkwardly before asking, "How're you feelin'?"

I stayed silent a beat, before mustering up a chuckle, "Well, I've definitely been better," I replied.

He gave me a sad smile, before looking back down at his feet.

"What are you doing here, Gale?" I asked finally, wanting to get to the point. He looked up at me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for the boy. Something was obviously eating him.

"You saw the explosion," he said, more of a statement than a question. A stupid one nonetheless.

I chuckled again and nodded, "I did. I was pretty close to it too, why else would I be here, in the **burn **unit?"

He nodded and paused before continuing.  
"The bomb…was the bomb I invented with Beetee…" he said slowly.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of shock. His bomb caused all of this? I nod for him to continue, not trusting myself to speak with the anger rising inside of me.

"We were planning on using it in an attack on Snow and the Peacekeepers of course. I don't know how they got a hold of our plans…I don't know whose idea it was to drop it….I don't know why they did it…" he rambles, running his hands through his hair.

He looks up at me again, his face full of pain, "Prim was killed. Katniss blames me."

Any anger I felt towards the boy before me a few moments prior to that statement disappeared at that moment. I swallowed hard, feeling nothing but sympathy.

"I…wow…" was all I could manage.

He nodded, and then crossed the room until he was right beside my bed. He leaned forward, his face just inches from mine.  
"She doesn't want anything to do with me, Mellark. I'm not going to push her…this is Katniss we're talking about. So, I'm leaving. But I want you to promise me something," he said firmly, though I could tell he was really struggling.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed, "Take care of her. No matter what happens, promise me you'll take care of her. I don't care about your fucking episodes. Get over them. Get all the help you need and take care of her. I know how you feel about her, even if Snow messed with your head. And even though she's never said it, I know she feels something for you. She needs you. More than she needs me. Promise me you'll take care of her. Promise me, Mellark."  
I knew it wasn't easy for him to say that to me, and I could see the pain in his eyes as he did. Gale Hawthorne admitting he was not the one Katniss needed, was a sight I never thought I'd see.

"I promise," I managed. He nodded once, and dropped his eyes from mine. He turned and walked slowly towards the door. As he placed his hand on the door handle, he looked at me over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Mellark? If I find out that you're not keeping your promise, or that you've hurt her in any way, I'll find you, and kick your fucking ass. Understood?"

Though I knew he was being totally serious, I couldn't help but laugh, really laugh for the first time since I'd woken up. I knew Gale cared about Katniss. That he loved her, even. And I knew that he would keep to his word, and follow through with his threat, should the need ever arrive.  
"Understood," I said once I'd calmed down.

He nodded and opened the door.  
Before he left the room I called out to him.  
"Hey, Gale?" He poked his head back in the door, "Thanks, for…everything. And good luck wherever it is you're going," I finished, genuinely thankful.

He nodded and mumbled a goodbye before waving and closing the door behind him.

After the death of Coin and Snow, as Katniss was awaiting her trial, I was asked by Dr. Aurelius to stay in the Capitol to undergo further treatment for my episodes. I agreed, hopeful that I could make some kind of improvement, and keep true to my promise to Gale. Plus, it's not like I wasn't going to go back to Katniss anyways. Surely Gale knew that when he made me promise to take care of her. He very well knew that, even in my…altered state, my feelings for Katniss had never gone away.

During my time with Dr. Aurelius, he taught me techniques to fight off episodes, and how to get through one as easily as possible.  
Obviously, the Real or Not Real game that I had developed along with the other soldiers was still an effective tactic when things got rough. The doctor helped me sort out some of the intensely shiny memories, and before I knew it, I was down to 2 episodes a week.

When he finally released me the other day, I knew exactly where I was headed. Home.

I finally finish the planting, and stand back to admire my work. I silently hope that Prim can see the memorial to her, and that she is pleased by it.

I turn to head back home, and just as I do, I see Katniss, walking into Victors Village, back from the woods.

Her game bag is slung over her shoulder, empty, but I still feel a sense of hope. She went outside today. She spoke today. She got dressed today. I smile to myself, as I go inside, thinking that if she can improve that much in just a few hours of me being here, helping her to heal fully might not be as hard as I thought.

But then again, this is Katniss Everdeen we're talking about.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Katniss

I don't stay at the lake very long. After being holed up in the house for so many days, I get tired more easily.  
I make my way back into town, taking my time, scanning what remains of my District. It still causes me immense pain, to see the ashes of everything I've ever known. I'm careful to keep my eyes away from the remains of my old house. I know they're there, and I've seen them before, but I don't need to ruin my day by being plagued with images of what could have happened if my mother and Prim had been in that house when the bombs hit.

As I enter Victors Village, I see Peeta, finishing in my garden. I avoid my gaze as he turns around, not wanting to have to engage him in conversation. I still don't think I'm ready to have a full on conversation with the bread boy. Besides, I've already made my decision—to stay away from him. It's what's best for him anyways.

I make it to my house, and toss my game bag into the kitchen, not looking or caring where it falls. I go to the living room, and just as I plop down on the couch, set on having a little nap, my front door flies open.  
I groan loudly, covering my eyes with my arm.

I hear a familiar chuckle, and peek out from under my arm.

"Well well well, look who decided to get outside today," Haymitch sneers. I sigh again, and sit up, frowning at him.

"Nice of you to knock. A girl could use a little privacy you know," I spit at him.

He just laughs, and takes a seat in the chair across from me, reaching into his pocket and taking out his flask. He takes a long drink and looks over at me.

"That voice, can't say I've missed it these past few months."

I glare at him, but can't help a small smile. He notices this before I can cover it up, and points at me, laughing.  
"Can we expect to see a lil' more of our Mockingjay now that Baker Boy's back?" he questions, taking another swig of his flask.

I grimace, and shrug my shoulders, not meeting his eyes.

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees, as if prodding me, wanting me to explain my reaction. Good old Haymitch. No matter how repulsive, annoying, hateful, or mean he can be, he always has my best intentions at heart. I guess I consider him something like a second father. One who spends most of his time drunk, and teasing me.

I shrug again, looking anywhere but at him. He grunts, and gets up from his chair and starts to walk towards the door on unsteady legs.

"Whatever sweetheart, when you're ready to stop feelin' sorry for yourself, maybe we'll talk."

At that comment, a snarl rips through me. I jump off the couch and smash into him, pushing him against the wall, pinning his arms to it. He's caught off guard for a moment, but then he just laughs, blowing alcohol breath into my face.

"Feeling sorry for myself?! You've got some nerve telling me I've just been feeling sorry for myself. What about you, huh? You drink yourself sick because you can't come to terms with your past. You get DRUNK every day because you feel sorry for yourself!" I scream at him, increasing my pressure on his shoulders.

He looks as if he's about to start screaming right back at me, but he twists his features into a frown and struggles against me. I loosen my grip slightly, but not enough for him to get away.

He snorts, and then stops struggling.  
"I drink. I get drunk. Yeah, maybe 'cus I can't deal with what happened to me, sure. But you ever think that maybe I want better for you, kid? I don't want you to end up like me, trust me; it ain't a good life to be livin'. All I'm sayin' is that, you've been sittin' in here, not talkin' to no one, not eatin' nearly enough, not doin' what you love. You've just been feelin' sorry for yourself. You need to move on, sweetheart. The boy sure as hell is, otherwise, you think he'd be here? You ain't doin' anything good for yourself, or anyone else. All you're doin', is wastin' away. So start doin' something productive, and clean up your life. Ah hell kid, I dunno what to tell ya. I'm just sayin' you're better than this. Show us that."

With that, he shoves me off him and storms out the door.

I stand there for a moment, processing what he just said. He wants better for me? I can't help but feel a little guilty at how I've been acting. I guess I have been feeling sorry for myself these past few months. But can he really blame me? I lost everything I had, and was close to death multiple times. Then again, the same goes for Peeta, and he's obviously on the road to recovery.

I bite my lip, feeling ashamed. Peeta's always been the more rational one of the two of us, so it makes sense that he's been focused on getting himself better…and getting back here, to me. Maybe Haymitch is right. I need to stop wasting away to nothing here in my house. I need to get back on my feet.  
The question is, how?

It comes to me then. Peeta. He's the one who's always known how to help me. He always knew exactly what to do.  
I groan, and throw open the door, stomping down the steps and making my way next door. I make it about halfway to his front door when I stop myself.  
I can't do this. I said I wasn't going to get close to him. I already decided that.  
_Well shit, _I think to myself. I stand, rooted in my spot, unsure of what to do next, when the door to Peeta's house opens and he steps onto the porch.

_Damn it!_ I curse myself, trying to turn around slowly and get back to my house unnoticed.  
"Katniss?" he calls just as I'm turning towards home, "Are you alright?"

I sigh, slowly turning on my heel to face him.

"Uh, hi Peeta," I say shyly, feeling totally stupid.

"Is there something you needed?" he asks, clearly confused as to why I was outside his house.

I scramble to think of some kind of excuse when I say, "I was just coming to invite you over for dinner. Tomorrow night. Haymitch will be there too."  
I curse myself silently. That's the best I could come up with? I've never been very good at lying.

He looks at me for a moment, just long enough for me to start feeling uncomfortable.  
I'm a little hurt that it's taking him this long to decide, and am about to tell him he doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to, when he finally speaks.  
"I'd love to come. It'll be nice for all of us to…catch up, it's been so long," he says, smiling brightly.

I can't help but smile back at him. We decide on 6:00, and say goodbye.

I start to make my way back home, kicking myself for being so stupid, when I remember I told Peeta that Haymitch would be there too.  
With a sigh, I pass my house, and go to Haymitch's. I let myself in, not bothering to knock—if he doesn't, why should I?—and call his name.

I hear a groan coming from the kitchen, and I walk in to find him, face down on the kitchen table.  
It hasn't been 20 minutes since he was at my house, and I can't help but sigh.  
"Dinner at my house tomorrow, be there at 6. Peeta's coming too," I say, turning to leave.

I hear him chuckle behind me, "Sure thing sweetheart, wouldn't pass up an opportunity to have a nice meal with the star-crossed lovers."

I resist the urge to pick something up and throw it at him, and exit his house, slamming the door behind me.  
Once home, I race upstairs, strip off all my clothing, and slip into bed in just my underclothes.

Today was the first day I've been out of the house, the first day I've been to the woods, and the first day I've talked to anyone other than myself since I returned here from the Capitol.  
After lying around for so long, I'm exhausted. I let myself drift off to sleep, half dreading, half excited for my dinner tomorrow.

_I'm running, running at full speed through the woods. I'm being chased by something, though I'm not sure what it is.  
Suddenly, I trip over a lifted tree root, and crash to the ground. In the moment it takes me to get on my feet again, the unknown threat is right behind me. I turn around, and to my horror, see a huge mutt, not unlike the ones from my first Games, staring at me, growling, its teeth exposed. _

_I whimper slightly, and it snarls at me, causing me to fall backwards. I scramble to get up again, and as I do, the mutt's features change.  
I watch, frozen to my spot, as the face contorts. Suddenly, it's Finnick, staring back at me. I'm about to reach out to him, when he lets out a menacing growl and jumps towards me.  
I watch in horror as the mutt transforms again and again, showing the faces of all the innocent people whose deaths I was either responsible for, or caused in some way. _

_Just as the mutt's face turns back to normal and begins its advance once again, I turn to run, but I'm too slow. The mutt pounces on me, pinning me to the ground. Just as it opens its jaws, I clench my eyes shut and scream. _

"NOOOOOOO!" I cry. My eyes fly open and I bolt upright, shaking harder than I ever thought possible.  
I sit there as my eyes adjust to the lighting in the dim room. I look around me, making sure I'm safe at home, and there's no shape shifting mutt nearby.  
I let out a shaky breath as tears stream down my face. Then, I turn on the light on my nightstand and pull the blankets up to my chin.  
Looks like I won't be getting anymore sleep tonight.

I jump when I hear the scream, and sit up in bed, looking around frantically for the source.

When I realize I'm alone, and it couldn't possibly have come from my house, I look out my bedroom window to see if there's anyone on the street.

When I see no one and am just about to go back to bed, I see a light snap on in the house next to mine. Katniss' house.  
Then I realize, it must have been her scream I heard, and the room across from mine, must be her bedroom. I shiver at the thought of her still having nightmares, remembering the ones she used to get on the train. Sometimes it'd take her hours to recover, and that was when she was in my arms.

I can't help but feel a sense of longing as I remember the long nights spent, with her in my arms. How her trembling would finally subside, and she'd curl into me, begging me not to let go of her.

"…_I know she feels something for you. She needs you." _I remember Gale's words from that day in the hospital, and wonder briefly if I should go to comfort her.  
I shake my head quickly. No, that would only make things extremely awkward, and it'd seem like I was assuming a position I no longer have. It'll all happen in time. One day, maybe, hopefully, we'll get back to where we were.  
But first things first, I have to help her get back to who she used to be. Dinner tomorrow night might be exactly what I need to get on track with that.

With that, I climb back in bed, and drift off, dreaming of my plans for assisting in Katniss' recovery.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Peeta

I wake earlier than usual the next morning, feeling a little sleepier than usual. I'm not used to sleeping in this house yet, and I know it'll take me a while to get used to it.

As I lay in bed, wondering what I should do today, I remember that I have plans for later that night.  
"With Katniss," I breathe, letting a smile cross my face.  
The smile falters after a minute though, as I remember that Haymitch will also be attending dinner.  
I hadn't seen or talked to Haymitch since the Capitol, and, though his presence will most likely cause some sort of trouble, I'm glad he's around. He is my mentor after all, and he isn't that bad of a guy…once you get used to him.

I finally roll out of bed, and jump in the shower, letting the warm water run down my slightly scarred body. I scrub every inch until I'm tingling, and get out to towel off.

After a while, I make my way downstairs, and decide that I'm going to make something to bring over to Katniss' for dinner.  
I rack my brain, thinking of something she likes that I can easily make. I decide on cheese buns, seeing as any memory I can muster up that includes my food, shows her enjoying them.

I take a quick look in the pantry, and then the fridge, and realize that I'm going to have to make a trip into town. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little afraid of venturing into town. It'll be the first time I'll really have the chance to see any damage done, and anything could really trigger an episode. But I need the groceries if I'm going to make the treat for dinner. So before I can change my mind, I make my way outside into the cool morning air.

Before I go to town, I stop at Haymitch's house. I knock on the door a few times, with no answer, so I just walk right in.

"Haymitch? Haymitch? Are you home?" I call, stepping into the front hall.

When I'm met with silence, I peek into the living room, with no luck. So I continue down the hall to the back of the house and enter the kitchen. Sure enough, my mentor, in all his glory, is lying face down on the table, passed out. Drunk, most likely.  
I'm about to shake him awake when I notice the knife clenched in his fist, and remember that he always sleeps armed.  
I let myself wonder briefly how he manages to sleep with such a good hold on his weapon.  
I carefully try to pry his fingers off the knife, and as I do so, he snaps awake, standing suddenly and knocking over his chair, hissing at me.

When his eyes focus on me, he sighs and puts the knife on the table, picking the chair back up.

"Jesus kid, dontcha know better than to go sneakin' up on old men like that? Especially old men with a weapon? I coulda sliced your damn arm off for cryin' out loud," he mutters, reaching under the table and grabbing a fresh bottle of liquor.

I can't help but chuckle, "Nice to finally see you again too Haymitch. Oh yeah, I've been fine, thanks for asking."

He glares at me from behind his bottle as he takes a long drink. He slams the bottle on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
"Fine, I'll play along. How ya doin' kid? Still dealin' with the bullshit Snow planted in your head?"

I roll my eyes at his less than gentle approach and nod.  
"Still having episodes, if that's what you're asking. Although, I'm down to only two a week, which is a hell of a lot better than the everyday thing I used to go through," I sigh, taking a seat across from him.

He nods, "Jeez kid, terrible stuff. To hell with those assholes."  
I'm about to comment on the almost tender comment he just made, when a sly smile crosses his face.  
"So, ya came back here for the girl, hmm? Lookin' for some lovin', like the olden days?"

I snort and shake my head at him in disgust, "Yknow Haymitch, I can act for myself sometimes. It isn't always about Katniss."

He raises an eyebrow and I sigh, "Ok, you're right, maybe I did come back for her. Problem?"

He raises his hands, as if surrendering, the smile playing on his lips once again, "No problem, no. You just might wanna think before you go tryin' to get in her pants. Girl hasn't exactly been right in the head since she got back here." He takes another pull on the bottle, and I stand from the table.

"I want to help her, Haymitch, and I just might need your help too," I say firmly, getting to the point of why I really decided to stop in.

"You want my help? Don't get me wrong kid, she's a cute girl, but I'm pretty sure she won't want me in her bed with the two of you. I can give you some tips on _how _to get her to let you into her bed though, I used to be quite the ladies' man, if I do say so myself."

I groan, "Haymitch! You know what I mean. I want…I need to help her. She's not herself, obviously you can see that. We need to get her back into a good place. This dinner invitation could just be her way of trying to show us everything is fine again, when it isn't. Please, help me. She's your favourite, you chose her, so help me to help her now."

He looks at me for a few minutes, as if deciding what witty remark to use next, which is why I'm a little shocked when he says, "Sure kid, I'll help. Best I can anyways."

"Thank you," I breathe, "Anyways, I'll see you tonight," I say, turning to leave.  
As I reach the door, I hear a chair scraping on the floor, and Haymitch appears in the hallway, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.  
"Hey, uh kid…what you said about her bein' my favourite? I ain't sayin' it's a lie, but I want you to know that, uh, it ain't just her well bein' I care about. I care jus' as much about you too. And, ah hell, it's good to have ya back," he stammers, obviously embarrassed by the show of affection.

I smile at him, "Thanks Haymitch, I appreciate it. And even though she's my favourite too, I guess I can say I care about you as well." I wink at him before going out the door, just catching his muttered insults. I laugh to myself as I head out of Victors Village.

It is good to be home.  
As I exit the village, I veer to the left, heading into the part of town that is being reconstructed. There are still piles of debris, and ashes lying about on the roads, and I know the Seam hasn't been cleaned or rebuilt at all. Soon enough though, our little District will be as good as new.

After a few minutes' walk, I reach the main part of town, and find people milling about. I am a little shocked at how nice the rebuilt parts look already.  
There are a few buildings that have been finished; Swanson's Market, Mae's Tailoring and Thom's Hardware. Everything is shiny and new, and there are no signs of the torture devices that littered the square before the rebellion.

The name on the hardware store sounds familiar, but I have trouble remembering where I've heard it before.  
I push that thought aside, and head into the market. As I make my way towards the store, people on the street stop and stare. Some whisper, and point, others break out into big smiles when I pass by. At first I wonder if this is all due to the fact that I have a prosthetic leg, which most people have never seen before. But then I realize the real reason.  
I sigh to myself. I guess the reactions that come with being a part of starting the rebellion don't fade away after the war ends. Looks like I'm a hometown hero.

I wonder to myself, as I enter the store, if that's why Katniss never likes to leave her house. She never likes the attention before, and certainly now, with her killing Coin instead of Snow, and being put on trial, people would recognize her everywhere—not that they didn't before the killing anyways.  
The market is a fairly nice place. Everything is in order, clean, and fresh.

I scan the aisles, looking for the ingredients I'll need, when a young man wearing an apron, who must be just a few years older than me, appears in front of me.  
I'm a little startled, but I smile warmly at him.

"Hello," I say, reaching out a hand to him, "I'm Pe—"

"Peeta Mellark, I'm well aware of who you are," the man chuckles, taking my hand firmly and shaking it. "I've known who you were since your first Reaping. Let me tell you, there's been a lot of talk, people were wondering if you were going to come back here, and seems like they don't need to wonder anymore!" He smiles at me.

I manage a chuckle and nod, "Yes, I don't think I could ever leave my home. Er...I'm sorry, your name is?"

"Oh! How rude of me, I'm Burt Swanson, I own this market," he says proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I talk to Burt for a few minutes before getting back to my shopping.  
I find that we are able to order items from the Capitol, which will arrive on the nearest train. I decide to order some ingredients that we won't be able to get in our District until 11 has their farms back up and running.

I exit the store, carrying my groceries, and am greeted by a man who looks vaguely familiar to me. He introduces himself as Thom, the owner of the hardware store. I greet him warmly, not able to shake the feeling that I've met him before.

He notices the strange look on my face and acknowledges it.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I just feel like we've met before, but I can't put my finger on it," I say, a little embarrassed.

"We have met before. I uh...I helped you carry the Hawthorne boy to Mrs. Everdeen after he got that whippin'…" he says slowly, assessing my reaction.

Of course, Thom Edwards. He worked in the mines, along with Gale. He probably knows all about my condition, which is why he was hesitant to tell me how we met.  
He's not much older than I am, maybe three or four years, but his hair is graying, probably as a result of all the stress of the District being destroyed and having to be rebuilt.

When I don't respond, he clears his throat, regaining my attention.  
"Anyways, I'm in charge of the rebuilds, and I was hoping to talk to you. When you have a moment, that is," he says a little nervously.

"What about?" I ask, trying to look interested.

"Well, I know your family owned the bakery. We were thinkin' and we could sure use one around here, so people could have the chance to buy good baked good, you know? So we were wondering, if maybe you'd like us to build one," he says quickly.

At the mention of the bakery, images start to flood my mind. I can't help it when I feel anger rising up inside of me, anger towards the mutt who caused my family's bakery, along with my family, to turn to ashes.

When I realize what's happening to me, I drop the basket with my groceries in it, and take off towards home, ignoring the calls of a worried Thom. I run as fast as I can with my fake leg, trying to ignore the pain I feel as I try to fight off the episode.

I make it to my house just as I begin to lose it. Images of a mutt version of Katniss setting fire to my family's bakery and laughing as she watches it burn being to spiral through my mind.  
Before I lose it completely, I manage to lock myself in my room and sit in the middle of the floor. Just as I feel myself being taken over, I have one last thought.  
There's no way I'm going to let myself hurt her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Haymitch

I groan and I lift myself up off the floor, where I must've passed out a while ago. I shuffle groggily into the kitchen, peering at the clock on the wall as I go by. It's around noon. Should give me enough time to…at least clean myself up a little before going to the girl's house for dinner.

I grab a cloth from the pile of dishes on the counter, wet it, and start scrubbing myself down, peering out the window as I do. That's when I see the boy, running into his house-looking a little unsteady on that fake leg of his- and slamming the door behind him. I keep watching his house, wondering what could possibly be going on.

I ponder it for a moment or two, before deciding to head across the street to check it out.  
I wobble over to the front steps, and make it halfway to his house, when someone calls my name from down the road.  
I look to see Thom, looking a little anxious, and carrying a paper bag full of something.

I take another look at the boy's house before meeting Thom halfway down the road.

"Somethin' the matter?" I grunt.

He nods, "I was just in town, talking to Peeta, and I was talking about the rebuild, and before I knew it, he'd dropped his bag and ran off. I figured he'd come back here, so I was bringing him his stuff," he finishes, looking for some kind of explanation.

I sigh, "What exactly did you mention about the rebuild? Could it have upset him in any way? Though, this boy isn't usually one for runnin' away, he usually used his words, like a big kid."

"I mentioned that we were hoping to rebuild the bakery, and that maybe he could take it over. I thought he'd be happy, seeing as his family owned it an' all," he says.

I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. Of course, it all made sense now. Thom must've triggered an episode for the boy. I sigh again, and take the basket from Thom, muttering a thank you.

"I'm sure it's all fine…I'll jus' go see the kid. Thanks Thom," I say, turning away without waiting for a response. I figure it's no one but mine, the boy's, and the girls business that he's had an episode.

I stumble up his front steps, and jiggle the door handle.  
"God damnit," I breathe, realizing the kid locked the door behind him. Even when he's losin' his mind, this boy sure has some good instincts—locking himself inside so he can't hurt Katniss.

I decide to try the back door, and sure enough, it's unlocked.  
I manage to pry the door open as quietly as possible, and make my way inside.  
"Peeta!" I call, giving him a heads up that he isn't alone anymore.  
I hear a shuffling coming from upstairs, and the distinct sound of something being overturned.

I dump the bag Thom gave me on the kitchen table, and mount the stairs, making as much noise as possible. No need to scare the kid in this fragile state.  
When I make it to the top of the stairs, I find the door to what must be Peeta's bedroom closed tight. I make my way over to it and knock firmly a few times.  
I'm met with silence.  
"I ain't takin' this bullshit, let me in kid," I groan, leaning against the door.

Once again, no answer.  
I sigh loudly, "Open this door or I swear I'll kick it down, come on kid."

I wait a moment, and then hear movement from behind the door and the click of a lock.  
I push open the door, and find the boy, huddled in the far corner of his room, rocking back and forth slightly.

"Jesus Christ kid…" I breathe as I take in the state of the room.  
The dresser has been emptied, the drawers and their contents scattered about. A nightstand has been tipped over; knocking a lamp to the floor in the process, and the bed is pushed at an odd angle against the connecting bathroom door.  
He peers up at me from his position, a look of pure disgust on his face.  
"Maybe I should've stayed in the Capitol, maybe then I wouldn't have destroyed everything in my path," he growls.

I slowly walk over to him, stopping a foot or two in front of him, surveying the mess again.  
"Hey, it ain't that bad. You only messed up one room," I say sadly, trying to cheer him up, if only a little bit.

He laughs sharply, "This time my own room, next time I destroy my whole house, and then, worst of all, I destroy Katniss."

I can't help but chuckle, and he snaps his head up, glaring at me.  
"Yeah right kid, like you'd let that happen," I snort, walking over to the bed and plopping down on it.

He's on his feet and beside the bed in a second, leaning over me.  
"I can't control it, Haymitch. You know that!" he snarls.

"Then how come you just destroyed this part of the house, and didn't end up at her house, tryin' to wrap your hands around her neck? Hmm? I think you have more control than you think, kid," I reply, reaching out to pat him on the cheek.

He snaps his head from my hand and begins to pace around the room, muttering to himself about control.

I clear my throat, "This wasn't a very bad episode, right? So, they can jus' get better from here."  
I've never been very good at being helpful, but the small smile I get from the kid, is good enough for me. With that, I heave myself up off the bed, making my way to the doorway.

I turn around and look at Peeta, who is surveying his room, no doubt anxious to clear away the remnants of his episode.  
"Kid, don't let this bother you. You controlled it, good for you. I still expect to see you at dinner," I say, knowing all too well that he would use this episode as an excuse to get out of it.  
He nods slowly, and I exit the room.

KATNISS

I get back from the woods just in time to start making dinner. I managed to hunt down a few rabbits, which I know are Peeta's favourite, and plan to make a rabbit stew along with a dandelion salad, served with some of the bread Peeta left on my kitchen table yesterday morning.

As soon as I set foot in my house, I get to work.  
First, I skin and cut the rabbits, then put the juicy pieces into the pot along with the vegetables I'd cut up earlier that morning.

As I let the soup simmer, I take to tidying up the house a bit. Peeta always had his things so neat and tidy, that I feel embarrassed about the state of my own home.  
I haven't exactly been cleaning, or keeping up with any housework since I've been back in 12. So, I race around the house, dusting and straightening things up.  
I can't help but feel a little silly. It is just Peeta and Haymitch after all. But seeing as Peeta's been away for so long, and this is the first time we'll all be getting together now that the war is over, I feel the need to impress. Or, at the very least, try not to disgust the two of them—though it would be hard to disgust Haymitch.

Just as I finish preparing the salad, I hear a loud knock on my door.  
I'm suddenly flooded with nerves. I shake my head slightly, it's just a dinner.  
I make my way to the door, and take a deep breath before pulling it open, prepared to greet Peeta warmly.

"Well hello there sweetheart," Haymitch slurs, pushing his way past me and into the kitchen, "Better have made something good girl, I'm starvin'." He stumbles through the house, almost crashing into a wall a couple times.

I snort, and close the door behind me; more than a little disappointed that Peeta hadn't been the first to arrive.

When I reach the kitchen, I find Haymitch, sticking his nose in the pot of soup that is still sitting on the stove. I clear my throat, and he looks up at me, a goofy grin on his face for no apparent reason.  
"Jus' checkin' to make sure you ain't foolin' me with the good smells, sweetheart. Shall we dig in?"

He reaches for the ladle lying on the counter beside him, and I move to swat his hand away. He gives me a look of mock horror.  
"Dinner won't be served until after all of my guests arrive. By the way, it's rude to show up to a dinner, intoxicated," I say sharply.

He holds his hands in the air and takes a seat at the table. "Whatever you say sweetheart, but there might be a possibility it'll just be me an' you tonight," he shrugs, occupying himself with playing with the fringe on the end of the table cloth.  
"And, to be frank, do you know me as the type of person to care whether I'm bein' rude or not?"

I frown, but decide against making a snide comment, and sit across from him, folding my hands across my lap.  
We sit in awkward silence for what feels like ages, and I steal a quick glance at the clock every minute or so.

Finally, when the clock strikes seven, I sigh loudly, causing Haymitch to jump a little.  
"Guess he isn't coming after all…" I say, not bothering to hide the disappointment in my voice. "I'll get the food."

I dish out plates for Haymitch and I, and we resume the silence.  
About halfway through my dinner I can't help but become annoyed with Haymitch.  
"How come tonight, of all night, you decide to keep your mouth shut? If it were any other night you'd be making comment after comment about Peeta-the-no-show. What's so different tonight?" I demand, slamming my spoon down on the table.

He looks up at me from his bowl, soup dripping off his chin and frowns slightly. I give a snort of disgust, and he wipes his chin with his hand, sighs, and places his spoon on the table.  
"It ain't exactly my business to be tellin' you things about the boy, but I guess it's sorta necessary. Especially since the damn kid decided to hide away," he begins.

"Just tell me, Haymitch," I sigh.

He nods and begins the story.

He tells me all about seeing Peeta run to his house, his conversation with Thom, and the fact that Peeta had an episode, his first (that we know about anyways), since returning here.  
"So, he didn't show up tonight…because he had an episode?" I repeat. Haymitch nods, and I try to condense my annoyance. "So, he moves back here, where he knows he's going to be close to me, has an episode, and decides to put himself in solitary confinement?" I huff, pushing away from the table. I know I'm overreacting just a bit, but my intense disappointment has turned to anger, and it's directed at Peeta now.

Haymitch opens his mouth to try to calm me down, but before I know it, I'm out the door, heading to Peeta's house.

PEETA

After Haymitch left, I managed to motivate myself to clean up my room. When I'd finished that, I'd contemplated still going to Katniss' for dinner, but decided against it, for one obvious reason—her protection.  
I then decide on a night in front of the fireplace, and am just lighting it, when my front door flies open, and Katniss barges in.

She marches into the living room and stands in the doorway, looking anything but happy.

I shake my head slightly, "Katniss—"I begin, but she holds up a hand to silence me.

"We did agree on 6, right? Or am I losing my mind?" she spits at me. "Oh, that's right, you decide not to show up because you'd rather dwell on your episode and sit home alone. We waited for you for an hour, until Haymitch had the sense to tell me about your episode. First of all, you should've told me you weren't over your episodes completely. Secondly, there's such a thing as a telephone, which you could have used to at least let me know in advance that you weren't planning on showing up, so I didn't look like an idiot, sitting around waiting for you," she rants.

I shake my head again, "Katniss, I couldn't come. I don't trust myself, not anymore. The first episode I've had since I came home, and it's on the same night you invited me to dinner? For some reason, I take that as a bad sign. I don't want to risk hurting you." I stand from my kneeling position in front of the fireplace, and take a hesitant step backwards.  
"I didn't come tonight because, yes, I had an episode. But it's so much more than that. I had to lock myself away today, so I didn't barge into your house, kind of like you just barged into mine, and try to strangle you to death again. What if seeing you had triggered another episode? What if I'd jumped across the table and hurt you? What if…so many what ifs, and I don't want to risk any of them. I don't want to get too close, only to hurt you," I confess, looking down at my feet.

I feel terribly pathetic, telling her all this, but it's the truth. I don't trust myself. Yes, this wasn't a very bad episode, and I was able to lock myself up in time. But what if next time, it's different?

After a few moments of silence I look up to find her staring back at me. I try to read the look on her face, but it's virtually impossible to tell what's on her mind at the moment.  
Just as I'm about to suggest she leaves, she crosses the room in a few strides, until she's just inches in front of me.

"Katniss…" I warn, trying to take a step back.  
"Do you feel it? An episode coming on, I mean," she asks, and I feel her warm breath tickle my chin.

I look down at her, and shake my head slowly; unsure of what it is she's trying to do.  
She slowly raises herself up on her tip toes, grasping my shoulder for support, until her eyes are level with mine.  
"How about now?" she murmurs, keeping her eyes locked on mine.  
I have the urge to look away, to break out of whatever spell she's putting on me, but I don't. I only shake my head in response to her question, feeling my heart race at her closeness, and hoping she can't feel it.  
As if she read my mind, she uses her free hand, and places it on my chest, her lips curling into a soft smile. "See? Being close to me doesn't trigger anything."

I'm about to protest, telling her this may just be a lucky shot, but suddenly, she leans in even closer and presses her lips to mine, moving her hand from my chest to the back of my neck, pulling me into her.

I gasp slightly, and feel her smile against my lips. I try to pull away, but I'm held in place by her hand. I want to pull away, want to tell her this isn't safe, but I can't help the small moan that builds in the back of my throat at her touch. I've been waiting for the chance to kiss her for such a long time now, that any opposition I had a moment before, is suddenly lost to me.

I slowly bring one of my hands, which are limp at my side, to rest on her waist, and the other to caress her cheek softly with the pad of my thumb.  
I'm rewarded with another smile against my lips, and she deepens the kiss, tracing my lips with her tongue, without ever pulling away.

My insides tingle, and with the hand on her waist, I pull her as close as I possibly can, not caring that she can most likely feel the bugle beginning in my lower area.  
She makes a small sound of satisfaction, and slowly begins to pull away. She meets my eyes, smiling devilishly before planting another small kiss on my lips.  
She leans on her tip toes again, and whispers in my ear, "Getting close to me won't hurt me, Peeta. It's staying away from me that will."

With that, she pulls herself from my grasp, turns on her heel, and walks out the door without looking back once. She leaves me standing there, breathless, confused, content, and turned on all at once.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

KATNISS

I saunter back home, completely surprised at myself.  
"So much for keeping away from him..." I mutter as I mount the front steps and throw open the door.

"Back so soon, sweetheart?" Haymitch calls from the kitchen. He stumbles into the hallway, a bowl of soup in one hand, and a bottle of white liquor in the other. "Jus' takin' some leftovers home, oh, and this bottle I took from your cabinet. Nice eatin' with ya kid," he mumbles as he pushes past me and out the front door.

I nod and make my way to the back of the house, mindlessly cleaning up the dishes and putting away the rest of the soup. As I do this, my mind brings me back to the kiss I just shared with Peeta. I can't help but smile as I remember the feel of his warm lips, and his soft caress. I shiver slightly and shake my head to clear it.

I hear a noise in the hallway, and tense up. I turn around slowly, scanning the room for possible weapons, and am met with a surprise.  
There is Peeta, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at me.

"Hi…" I say slowly, relaxing a bit. "What are you…" I trail off as he takes two long strides and stands in front of me.

"Peeta…" I begin, but he shakes his head slightly, his breathing heavy. He reaches his arms out and places them on either side of me, resting them on the marble countertop. Ever so gently, he pushes against me, until I bump against the counter. He's pressed against me, his face just inches from mine, and I glance up to meet his eyes, questioning him silently.

He slowly leans forward, until our foreheads touch, and I close my eyes and sigh at his closeness.  
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to...be close to you again…" he whispers, pulling away slightly. I meet his eyes, seeing nothing but longing reflected back at me, and nod in response.  
He leans in again, and brushes his lips against mine, softly at first, before he lets out a breath and deepens the kiss, bringing one hand up to the back of my neck, and the other to rest on the small of my back, pushing me into him.  
I shiver involuntarily and bring my hands up, tangling my fingers in his soft golden curls.  
He groans and pries open my lips, plunging his tongue into my mouth.  
I laugh softly and kiss him back, totally thrilled by his actions.

I have no idea how long we stay there, revelling in each other. Finally, he pulls back, breathing heavily, and presses his forehead against mine once again.  
"Wow…"I breathe. He chuckles softly and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

He starts to pull away but I bring his closer again with the hands still tangled in his hair, causing his very hard groin to rub against mine, and a moan to escape his lips.  
"Sorry," I giggle, and he glares at me from under his eyelashes, stifling a smile. "Care to tell me what that was all about anyways?" I ask, pushing past him and into the living room.

"I'm pretty sure you know what it was about, Katniss," he chuckles, following me into the room.

I plop down on the couch and he sits beside me, laying one arm along the back of the couch behind my head.  
"I thought you were going to stay away from me, yknow, for my own 'protection'" I tease, curling my legs under me as I turn to face him.  
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, tousling his already out of place curls.  
"You ruined my resolve with that kiss back at my place. I can't stay away from you…but that doesn't mean I'm going to totally let loose around you," he meets my eyes steadily. "I'm still afraid of hurting you."

I nod and drop my gaze from his. Is this really what I want? Have I thought this over thoroughly? Do I really want to get close to him again? Or am I only acting out of sympathy for the boy sitting before me, because I know it's what he wants? I let out a sigh and then try to cover it up with a cough. Despite what just happened, I still have no idea what I feel for this boy.  
I silently curse myself, knowing that I'm being ridiculous, that Peeta is probably perfect for me. But I can't help feeling torn.  
Suddenly, I'm thinking of Gale, and how he was the one I usually shared my innermost thoughts with. What would he say?  
I shake my head, he'd only add to my confusion.

Peeta clears his throat and I snap out of my reverie, looking up at him. He's sitting awkwardly on the edge of the couch, obviously unsure of what he should do.  
His eyes dart between mine and the floor, and I feel the awkward silence surrounding us like a brick wall.

"Since you're here, would you like something to eat? There's still some soup left," I suggest, pushing myself to my feet.  
He nods and I head to the kitchen, pulling the soup out and setting it on the stove to heat. He seats himself at the table, and we drop into another awkward silence as I stir the soup.  
When I think it's hot enough, I hand Peeta a bowl and pour him a glass of water before sitting across from him at the other end of the table. He tastes the soup and compliments me, before quickly finishing the bowl.  
"Thanks, Katniss. A little late, but I guess I did make it to dinner after all," he smiles, standing from the table and dumping his dishes in the sink.

I laugh, "You're welcome. We'll have to try again sometime, and maybe you'll be on time."

He chuckles and says goodbye before letting himself out the front door. I watch from the kitchen window as he makes his way next door and reaches his house. I wash the few dishes and then decide to go to bed.

I'm changing into my pajamas when the light in what I guess to be Peeta's room flicks on. I peer through the window, hoping he won't be able to see me should he look my way, and watch as he pulls an easel into his room and sits on the bed in front of it. He grabs a paintbrush from the tray attached to the easel, and dips it into a cup of what I assume must be paint. He bites his lip, and begins to paint on the canvas with long, steady strokes.  
I can't help but wonder what he's painting, and if maybe, I'm the inspiration for his creative spark.  
I shrug and dive into bed, pulling the covers over my head after turning out the lamp.  
My last thought before I fall asleep is that I suffer no nightmares tonight, and that Peeta doesn't either.

PEETA

I fend off sleep until I finish the painting I'm working on. When I finally finish, I take a step back and admire it.  
It's of Katniss, and how she looked the moment she barged into my house earlier that day. Despite the look of anger and annoyance on her face, she looks…well…she looks beautiful-as always. I captured every detail I possibly could; from the way her clothes hugged her body, to the few loose strands of hair that curled across her cheeks.

I sigh and carry the painting back into the art studio I set up in the spare bedroom. After I find a place for it, I scan the room, taking in all the paintings I have. Some I brought from the Capitol—the ones I created whenever I wasn't in therapy or working with Dr. Aurelius. Most of them are portraits of Katniss. Some show the evil mutt version of her that so frequently haunts my dreams, and invades my mind when I have an episode. Others show her during moments we shared together.  
How she looked fast asleep on the Capitol train, the look on her face just moments before she kissed me—really kissed me, for the first time in our first Games. The look of terror on her face when she told me of her conversation with Snow before the Quarter Quell.  
I walk over to my favourite painting of her and study it. It's the moment she saw me for the first time back in 13 after I was rescued from the Capitol. I have no idea why this memory of her isn't shiny—seeing as it was merely seconds before I attacked her and tried to strangle her—but the look on her face, the look of pure happiness and relief when she saw me, sends a tingling sensation up my spine.

After a few minutes, I make my way back to my room and climb into bed. It's been a long day.  
As I close my eyes, I remember the feel of Katniss' lips on mine, and the way her hands tangled in my hair. I fall asleep within minutes, a smile plastered on my face.


End file.
